Bob is my 80 year old grandfather, but I call him Bob instead of grandfather. Always have. I moved from my parent's house in January 2010 to Bob's house. Bob is eccentric, even as far as old men go. I always appreciated it, but I was never quite exposed to it this much. Now, I want everyone to know about my experiences. You may laugh, but I shake my head. All of these short stories are true. They are not fabricated or exaggerated. They are Bob at his finest. If 'finest' is the right word
Sunday, June 9, 2013
The Bob Plant
Two years ago when I was initially living with Bob, the potted plant life in his house was wholly neglected, but not desperate. In 2013, it has skipped desperation and gone to terrifying. Case and point: the Bob Plant (pictured below). Pushing forth green and yellow limbs in a hellish display of raw existence, the Bob Plant has found a way to survive without water for 5 years (2008 was my grandmothers' passing). Unless the Midlothian Fire Dept. intervenes, the Bob Plant could become a real problem in the Salisbury community. We can speculate all we want; I do know the Bob Plant is as visibly angry as it is thirsty, and I am scared.